


Eggshells

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Juris Imprudence [25]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, lawyer AU, tw: suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7298950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, “What did you do, wake up this morning and say, ‘Today, I'm going to ruin a man's life’?”</p><p>In which Rodney's attempt to be personable with a client goes horribly, horribly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eggshells

Everyone stared at the newspaper headline in silent shock.   
  
Jack eyed Rodney. “What did you do, wake up this morning and say, ‘Today I'm going to ruin this man’s life’?”  
  
Rodney threw his hands up. “For the last time, no! I know scientists have egos. Usually they're not that fragile.”  
  
Sam pursed her lips and shared glances with Carson and Janet.   
  
“At least he survived,” Daniel offered.   
  
“And he’s not suing,” Cam added.   
  
John put an arm around Rodney’s shoulders. “It's really not your fault. There was no way anyone could have predicted he’d react this way.”  
  
“Eggshell skull rule,” Anne murmured.   
  
John shot her a look.   
  
“I was trying to be personable,” Rodney said. “ _That's a cool patent idea. Had an idea just like it back in grade five_. How was I supposed to know that _a_ , my grade five teacher kept every science paper I wrote, that _b_ , she published them on the Internet or that _c_ , some American inventor would look one up and not realize it was written by a child?”  
  
“Meredith is an old-fashioned name for a girl _or_ a boy,” Jonas said.   
  
“It was written in crayon!”  
  
“You were still using crayons in grade five?” Richard raised his eyebrows.   
  
Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. “I wrote the paper during geography when we were supposed to be coloring maps of Canada.”  
  
“How would you feel if the culmination of your life’s work was based on a ten-year-old’s daydream?” Elizabeth asked.   
  
“Mine is,” Rodney snapped.   
  
“Look, at least he didn't fire the firm,” John said. “Sam can handle the patent. The guy said he'd be back once the psych ward discharged him. I'll make sure Rodney’s not in the office when he comes by, okay?”  
  
Elizabeth turned the newspaper over and his its garish headline about the attempted suicide of a prestigious scientist. “Back to work.”  
  
Everyone turned and shuffled back to their offices. Rodney went into his and closed the door and didn't emerge for the rest of the day.   
  
At four-thirty, John called Lorne into his office.   
  
“Sir?” Lorne stood poised with a notepad and pen, ready to accept his assignment.   
  
“I need you to track down Rodney’s fifth grade teacher and see if there are any more of his scientific papers on the Internet.”  
  
“Just from fifth grade?”  
  
“From any level of schooling, if he didn't authorize its publication.”  
  
“Yes, sir. Mission objectives?”  
  
“Vengeance.”  
  
Lorne paused before he wrote that down. “Did you perhaps mean equitable redistribution of negative consequences?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Very good, sir.” Lorne tucked his notebook away and produced, from seemingly nowhere, a gourmet chocolate cupcake, Rodney’s favorite. “Please give this to Mr. McKay. From Zelenka.” And he ducked out of John’s office.   
  
If Lorne really was a robot, he deserved some kind of fancy upgrade. Laser eyes, maybe.


End file.
